Maybe Someday
by fadedelegance
Summary: Rated T for language. Connie reaches out to Mike after learning about his father. Post-"Brazil".


**Disclaimer****: Dick Wolf and NBC own "Law and Order". I don't. **

**A/N****: Oh my gosh, you guys, on Memorial Day, TNT had a 12-hour "L+O" marathon from 10am to 10pm! I squeed and fangirled like crazy when I found out. So, of course, I watched it, starting at noon (because I'm not a morning person at all LOL), and wow, they showed some GOOD ones! They showed ones with Claire in them (and I was like, "Yay, J/C, and Claire is a badass!" 8D) and, of course, ones with Mike and Connie in them.** **They showed "Brazil", which I love because it's Mike-centric. So, the whole time, during this marathon, my M/C muse was beating me upside the head with a stick. LOL The ideas are coming to me so fast, I feel like I can barely keep up! XD **

** Anyway, as usual, this is for my fellow M/C shippers, Mike Cutter fangirls, and Connie fans. I seriously love you guys for reading and reviewing—makes my day! ^_^ **

**Maybe Someday **

Setting: post-"Brazil"

Heart moved with sympathy, Connie stood in the doorway to Mike's office, watching him pack up his briefcase and put on his coat and scarf without a single word. He looked heartbroken. She found herself hurting for him.

It seemed obvious to her now—no wonder he never talked about his family…

As he turned to leave—

"Goodnight, Connie," he said, faking a smile.

"Mike," Connie said compassionately, reaching out and gently taking his hand, which she tried to convince herself she only did to keep him from leaving.

Mike looked surprised—but definitely not unpleasantly so—by that action. Connie tried to ignore the rush she felt when he gently grasped her hand in return.

"About your dad, I—I never knew…" she said softly.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Mike said gently. "It's just…not something I like to talk about."

"All those times I sat there, rambling on and on about my family…" Connie said, shaking her head. "Why didn't you stop me?"

"Because I like talking to you, and I'm glad you have them. I wouldn't wish this loneliness on anyone. I like listening to you talk about your life, your family," Mike said honestly. "I'd never be so selfish as to tell you to stop."

They looked at each other for a moment, then, against her better judgment (because she just couldn't face her feelings), Connie took a step towards him and embraced him.

_Damn it,_ she thought, cursing her weak resolve.

She wanted to keep the hug brief, but the moment Mike put his arms around her, she knew that wasn't possible.

Part of her was angry at herself. She was sure she was being transparent. Most men had no sense of subtlety whatsoever, but Mike wasn't most men. He was an attorney—he _had_ a sense of subtlety.

Another part of her wished that part would just piss off because Mike was a good man. So why should having feelings for him be bad thing (purely hypothetically speaking, of course)?

But that wasn't the point. The point was that he was a good man who was lonely and hurting, and he needed to know that someone gave a damn.

Connie certainly did.

"I don't know everything your father did to hurt you, but I am _so sorry_, Mike," she said. "I'm sorry that he hurt you, and I'm sorry that he failed you as a parent. I'm sorry that you're carrying all this pain."

Mike was speechless. All the times his father had hurt him had left him pretty cynical and pessimistic when it came to people. He found it hard to believe in sincerity, and he had some trust issues. But Connie? She was completely different. He didn't doubt her sincerity at all, and she made it easy to trust her. She had such a huge heart. She was, without a doubt, one of the most compassionate people he knew. She amazed him because of that. How did she _get_ that way? He supposed it didn't matter. The point was, that was the way she was. She was a wonderful person.

Mike knew he'd been attracted to her since the day they met but had been unwilling to admit it to himself. He hadn't wanted to face his feelings. But now? Now that she was here, being so good to him? He decided it was time to be honest with himself—to face the truth of his situation: he was attracted to her—deeply attracted.

…But was it enough to say that?

If Mike was truly honest with himself, no, it wasn't. If he was truly honest about how he was feeling, 'deeply attracted' wasn't strong enough.

The way he was feeling was so strong, it had him thinking he was in love with her.

"I don't know how to thank you…" he told her.

"It's okay—you don't have to," Connie said.

She was mad at herself for being so weak-willed and allowing their embrace to go on for as long as it did. She pulled away and stepped back.

_Damn it, Connie,_ she berated herself for her reluctance in doing so.

She assumed her best poker face.

"Please tell me you aren't off to some bar," she said.

"I'm not," Mike answered truthfully.

"Good," said Connie caringly. "Call your mother, call Jack, call…call me. Just please don't turn to the bottle."

"I won't," Mike promised her. "You know…I wanted to at first," he then admitted. "I'd actually planned to go to a bar, but I don't want to anymore…because of you…I feel like I can put today behind me now. Again, I don't know how to thank you."

"It's okay," Connie said kindly. "I'm glad I could make you feel better, even though nothing can change what your father did…Listen, I'm going to this hole-in-the-wall place for dinner. They have really good coffee, and their pie is amazing…Can I buy you dinner?"

"You've already done more than you know, but I'll pay my own way and still join you."

"Um, no, I'm sorry, that's unacceptable. I'm treating you. You don't get a say," Connie said jokingly.

She desperately hoped she wasn't blushing when Mike cracked the first real smile he'd worn in days.

Her poker face was even harder to maintain whenever she saw him smile.

And it was a good thing he had no way of knowing that her heart began to beat faster the moment he gently rested his hand on her back as the two of them exited the office.

It was times like this when she wondered why she put on this façade; why she put up walls around her heart; why she acted so guarded; why she let that son-of-a-bitch Marcus Woll scar her and keep her from taking a chance on someone better—keep her from being happy with that someone.

Maybe someday, things would be different.

Maybe someday, she wouldn't be so afraid.

Connie certainly hoped so.


End file.
